Meant to Be
by HiddenSky
Summary: Wesley realizes some things are meant to be.


Title: Meant to Be  
Author: HiddenSky  
Email: bpbdwy@yahoo.com  
Summary: Wesley discovers he isn't meant to be alone. Tag to Waiting in the Wings.  
Rating: PG   
Pairings: Wesley/Fred  
Spoilers: Through Waiting in the Wings  
Archiving: http://bpbdwy.tripod.com/midnight/, http://www.fanfiction.net, and http://archive.shriftweb.org   
Disclaimer: The characters contained within are © Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, Mutant Enemy, FOX, etc. and do not belong to me. I'm just borrowing them for this story. Dialogue in first two paragraphs taken from Waiting in the Wings, written by Joss Whedon.  
Author's Notes: My first fanfic in several years, and first in the Jossverse. Feedback appreciated.   
  
  
"Well, that's a surprise. I thought for sure she was meant to be with Angel. I guess you can never predict those things," said Winifred Burkle. She turned away from Cordelia Chase's passionate kiss with the Groosalugg to face Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, flashing him a gentle smile. "You know?"  
  
"No," said Wesley, holding back his emotions. "I guess you never can." *I thought for sure you and I were meant to be together. Two intellectual loners finding a place in each other's arms.*  
  
Wesley bowed his head briefly then looked up to see Fred's retreating form, dressed in an elegant red gown, vanish up the stairs. He sighed and couldn't help but feel a profound sense of disappointment and anger. Earlier that night, he had been overwhelmed with joy when Angel announced that the gang would be spending the night at the ballet. After keeping his emotions bottled up for several months, 'Giselle' seemed like the perfect opportunity for Wesley to charm Fred and finally reveal his true feelings to her. Instead, he was reduced to looking on helplessly and cursing his inbred restraint as she fell for Gunn's more aggressive overtures instead. Count Kurskov's hotspots had only made it worse by amplifying the pain the former Watcher felt.   
  
"Good night, Wes!" called out a jubilant Cordelia. Blinded by her own passion, the only other person who knew about Wesley's feelings for Fred was too busy to console him as she left the Hyperion in her champion's arms.   
  
"Good night," mumbled Wesley. He took one last look around the empty lobby before turning off the lights and locking the front door. *Alone. Father was right. I'm an incompetent failure destined to be alone.*  
  
***   
  
Sipping from a bottle of vodka, Wesley laid in bed, still dressed in his rumpled tuxedo shirt and slacks. An alcoholic fog was descending upon his mind, dulling his senses, but the sting of rejection was still extremely vivid. He tried to close his eyes and let sleep wash over him, but every time his eyelids closed, the crushing image of Fred and Gunn locked in a passionate kiss came to the surface.   
  
*One second more,* he thought. *If I had just moved my hand across Fred's lap a bit faster, or not tried to be the hero and charge in ahead…then it might have been me who was stabbed. It might have been me who Fred kissed. What's a little pain worth when it comes to love? Damn Gunn! Fred was mine, and he took her. If only…*  
  
Wesley's thoughts were interrupted by a gentle rap on the front door. He lifted his head as if to get up and move towards the front door, but he stopped and laid back down. *Probably just a door-to-door salesman.* Ignoring the knock, he took another swig of vodka.   
  
The knocking resumed, this time with more fervor. Coupled with his intoxicated state, each knock sounded like an explosion.   
  
"I'm coming," he mumbled, shuffling to the front door with bottle in hand. He peeked through the peephole but the fisheye view was blurrier than usual. Wesley fumbled with the chain on the door and unlocked the deadbolt, pulling the front door open.   
  
"Can…can I come in?" Fred asked hesitantly, with traces of her Texas drawl creeping through.   
  
Wesley's pain-filled eyes met her gaze for a brief moment before he nodded his head, indicating she was welcome to enter. He watched as she tentatively walked into the center of the apartment, fingering the copy of 'A Brief History of Time' sitting on the coffee table.   
  
"Care for a drink?" Wesley raised his bottle of vodka in the air. She was now dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, but Fred's beauty was still enough to sober him up. He gazed longingly at her chestnut hair which framed her dazzling brown eyes and delicate cheekbones.  
  
"No thanks. Wes…"  
  
"What did I do wrong?" He set the vodka bottle down on the coffee table.  
  
"Wrong? Wesley, you never did anything wrong," assured Fred.   
  
"I chased you through the Hyperion and tried to murder you with an axe." Shame was etched on Wesley's face. "Wasn't that wrong?"  
  
"That wasn't you, Wesley. You have to remember that. You were under Billy's influence. I know you would never do something like that. You care too much." Fred reached out and placed a hand on Wesley's cheek. He shied away from the contact and stepped backwards.   
  
"Are you sure, Fred? Part of me was so heartbroken tonight and those primal feelings almost bubbled to the surface. Don't tell me I'm a good man, because I'm not. A good man never would have had those thoughts. You're better off without me. I don't deserve you." Wesley resignedly sat on the couch.   
  
"Yes, you do, Wesley. What you felt tonight was perfectly normal. That's the way you feel when you're in love, silly." She smiled as she sat down on the couch next to him. "I know."  
  
With a note of surprise in his voice, Wesley asked, "You've felt that way?"  
  
"Tonight when I kissed Charles, I can't deny that there was something there." Fred noted Wesley's sad expression. "But…but it wasn't what I was hoping for, Wesley. I thought tonight would be our night."   
  
"Our night?"  
  
"I'm not blind, ya know. I've seen the way you look at me, mostly because I've been looking at you." Fred giggled. "I was too scared to approach you myself, but I kept hoping that you'd finally come to me."   
  
"I'm sorry, Fred, I don't follow. Then why did you kiss him?"   
  
Fred shrugged. "Because you didn't kiss me first. I know it's silly, but I was hoping to make you jealous. I guess it worked. I was disappointed when you didn't make a move after putting the coat on me, and after you and Charles both acted like snails while trying to hold my hand."   
  
"What? Charles and I?"  
  
The sound of Fred's laughter filled the room. "Both of you were blind as a bat. If I hadn't mentioned Angel, the two of you would've been holding hands the entire night."   
  
A faint smile crossed Wesley's lips before disappearing. "But your kiss was so passionate…"  
  
"Don't get me wrong, Charles is a great guy. He's charming and romantic, but he's just not my type. I must've gotten caught up in the moment, or perhaps there was another hotspot. You're the one I belong with, Wesley. You have a special charm and grace that I can't define, and although you don't admit it, you make a wonderful leader. Sometimes, being reserved isn't a bad thing. We're meant to be together. I love you, Wesley."   
  
Fred leaned over and used her tongue to explore Wesley's mouth while he returned the favor in a fervent kiss. The long-awaited sensation on Wesley's lips was akin to fireworks going off.   
  
"I love you, too, Fred. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."  
  
  
  
***THE END*** 


End file.
